


Sitting, Waiting, Wishing

by i_once_wrote_a_dream



Series: Every Minute Of Every Universe [21]
Category: SKAM (Norway), SKAM (TV) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-13 13:15:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14113125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_once_wrote_a_dream/pseuds/i_once_wrote_a_dream
Summary: -ON HIATUS-The Mark works like a window. It shows you your soulmate’s world. Only, it’s one of those pointless, warped windows that people like to put by doors.Soulmate au





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Well would you look at that, part 21 of this series! I wanted to do something special and a little out of my comfort zone, so I'm attempting a chaptered fic that doesn't suck. I'm a real sucker for soulmate au's, but I've been too afraid to try it out. I found a prompt on Instagram (will link it when I find it!) and changed it up a bit. Hope you like it!!
> 
> (10 points to you if you know where the title comes from)

Isak was -is still- awestruck by the Mark. For as long as he can remember, the foggy, iridescent patch that runs across the fingers on his left hand has fascinated him. The Mark works like a window. It shows you your soulmate’s world. Only, it’s one of those pointless, warped windows that people like to put by doors. It’s frustrating. A lot of the time, Isak just wishes it’d clear up, show him his soulmate’s face so his heart will stop breaking every time it’s not them.

Now, though, it’s pretty. Soft purple and red. Like his soulmate is at an interestingly lit party. Or they’re modelling. That would be cool. A model. Isak spreads his fingers apart, then closes them. Looks at his white ceiling between the swirling colours. His fingers go dark for a moment, they’re probably holding something. Or someone. Isak doesn’t entertain the thought for long. He’s hooked up with people. Lots of people, he doesn’t get to be jealous of someone that he doesn’t know.

There’s a knock at his door and Isak considers ignoring it, but Eskild’s certainly seen his shoes in the doorway, and can see the light on from under his door. Sighing, he stands and pulls on a pair of shorts before answering it.

“Yeah?” Eskild pushes in, wrinkling his nose a little.

“It’s dinnertime.” 

“I’m not really hungry.” Isak watches Eskild pick up his clothes from the floor. He remembers his mom doing similar things when he was younger. 

Eskild hums. “Your doctor told you to eat at regular times. And proper meals.” She did tell him that. 

“I’ve got stuff to do. You know, pass my exams so I can get that 9 to 5 I’ve always dreamed about.”

“Well I haven’t made anything yet. So if we cook together, you’ll probably have some sort of appetite. And then you can use all that energy to get your cubicle degree.” Isak doesn’t see a way out of it. And he really should be eating better, so he follows Eskild out, only sort of tuning out his story about his hot co-worker.

.

Cooking with Eskild is really just chop this and stir that. And Isak you’ll burn it, let me do it instead. Sometimes Isak wonders if Eskild knows he plays up the can’t cook thing. Just to be babied a little, because Eskild seems to enjoy it. And Isak is lazy enough to burn water, but that’s another story. He sits on the counter after he’s washed most of the utensils and scrolls through Instagram while Eskild turns on some music. Noora bursts in with her girlfriend of the week, with wine and a 6-pack to make up for missing their cooking tradition. 

Elise (?) isn’t the nicest. Definitely not one of Isak’s favorites, but she seems to be making Noora happy, so Isak tries not to make his dislike apparent. 

“We were just at this great little restaurant earlier today. What was it called, babe?” Elise tears her eyes from Isak, smug look still on her face, to face Noora.

“Aymara, Noor.” Noora continues on, Elise offering bits of information every now and then. Isak is a creature of habit and no amount of praise on Noora gives will ever convince him to try out Peruvian food when he could just get a kebab. 

Dinner is rather quiet on Isak’s end, but it usually is whenever other people are over. Linn joined them to grab a plate briefly, before slinking back to her room. Isak tries not to wince when Else (he’ll try to remember that if she’s still around in a week) makes a comment about Linn’s lack of social etiquette. She’d done well, he thinks. She smiled and said hi before leaving. It seems like Eskild’s not a big fan either, lips growing into a tighter line the more she speaks. 

Isak finds himself staring back at his hand, tracing the blurred face shape that appears.

“You believe in that soulmate shit?” Isak startles and looks up, wide eyed. Noora bites her lip, a wrinkle forming between her brows.

“I don’t see how you can’t believe in it. The evidence is pretty clear.” Else chuckles darkly.

“Not everyone has a mark. Have you considered that? What evidence do the Markless have?” Noora starts to speak, but Isak cuts her off.

“I think it’s a little ignorant to suggest that because only two percent of the population do not experience the Mark, they invalidate the entire soulmate system.” He doesn’t know why Else seems to get under his skin the way she does. Isak does his best to keep calm, though. 

“So what? The Markless don’t have souls? They don’t get ‘the one,’ because they’re born without a Mark?”

“Not at all. Soulmate is a colloquial term. They’re only called that, because they’re a genetically predetermined perfect match for you. There is so little research into the actual soul itself, so to assume a Markless doesn’t have a soul is a serious stretch. We don’t even know if the soul is real. And just because someone has a mate, it doesn’t mean they’re ‘the one.’ Love and relationships don’t depend solely on genetics.” 

Else stands up suddenly. “Your roommate really sucks, Noor. I’m going home.” She storms out, leaving Noora to chase after her.

“Sorry guys. She’s Markless, you know. It’s just a...she’s sensitive about it.”

Isak looks back at his hand and it’s dark. 

.

Instagram is really boring after a certain hour. He’s refreshed the page a million times and seen the same fifty videos in different order on his explore page at least twice. Still, he can’t sleep, and real words won’t come to mind, so he’s not about to finish his paper. 

Isak taps the home tab once more, and he’s happy to see a couple more updates in his feed. Jonas posted a video of him goofing around with his American cousins. They say a lot of things in Spanglish so the context flies over his head a bit, but he giggles quietly as one of them eats shit trying to do a keg stand. He comments a couple emojis on it and scrolls down. He smiles into his pillow a little when he sees a post from his favorite account. Ebn0297 is just pure talent. He’s an Instagram model turned vlogger, with a wicked sense of humor. It’s a black and white picture of him smiling down at his hands. The caption is achingly sweet, and Isak will never admit it, but he imagines the words being said to him. He clicks his phone off and sticks his foot out from under the covers. Isak tries to sleep.

.

_I got distracted at work because of you. I looked down and saw earth. I saw beauty and colours I didn’t know existed. I still can’t see you properly, but I know you’re all the good things. The best things._


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah I wasn’t expecting any kind of response! Thanks guys. I have a little bit written out so, I’ll upload as often as I can. It’s looking daily for the next little bit.

It’s not that Isak isn’t smart. He’s actually extremely capable. Nearly straight sixes all through high school. He just doesn’t really care about school that much. He’s coasting through a bunch of random communications courses and figures he’ll get some kind of office job. So, when attendance isn’t mandatory, he skips out and strolls into the library after sleeping in to read on whatever topic he’s interested in that day. 

Today he’s doing questions from an MCAT physics workbook. He often does work with Sana and some of the concepts stuck with him. It’s fun, but he guesses it would be less so if he were actually taking physics. His phone goes off really loudly, and he turns it off as quickly as he can. Unfortunately, as quickly as he can isn’t quick enough and the few people around him hear his ringtone. Embarrassed, he decides to turn it off completely, before looking around to see if anyone was still watching him. Everyone else had turned back to their work, except for a guy a couple tables away. He’s sneaking looks, and Isak kind of gets it. He’d be a little pissed if some random kid played Gin and Juice out loud in the middle of the library. But it’s off now, so can the guy please just him live?!

.

He’s a coward. Isak leaves the library not long after, the whole thing replaying in his mind over and over again. He looks at his hand in attempt to break the loop. His soulmate seems to be writing, there’s green squiggles over a greyish white background. It’s moving fast, but sometimes they pause long enough, pressing their hand into the page and Isak can almost make out a proper word. He reads boy, and cur. Cure? Was his soulmate doing some kind of research paper? It calms him a little. But the loop goes on and on and on in the background. So he pulls out his phone and plops on to the grass. 

It’s sunny (finally) so he has to put the brightness all the way up. He settles on an older ebn video, one with tinkling music and nice visuals and a deep voice reading out thoughts Isak is too afraid to have. 

_Boys are special. They have a softness that most don’t realize. Even the toughest, most masc man will cave to a touch. A smile. The sound of someone’s laughter. Among hard muscles, there are soft voices. Among tiny forests, there are beating hearts. Hearts that get hurt and break. Hearts that love, and love, and love. I realize I’m being a little exclusionary. Boys, men, aren’t all hard and lean muscle. They can be pillowy, and that’s beautiful too. I like rooms. Four walls that keep me and my thoughts contained. That’s what it feel like to be hugged by a boy._

Isak finds himself coming back to this video a lot. Doesn’t think about what that means, but let’s himself find comfort in it. The video focuses on hands and the corners of smiles. And shoulders brushing against each other with sunsets in the background. 

_Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but when we talk, it’s like he and I are the only people alive. Nothing else matters when it’s us. And, god, we talk about everything and nothing. When he smiles at me I feel like I’m floating and I wonder, for the hundredth thousandth millionth time if he feels it too. For now, that future, the one where we’re both holding onto each other, maybe kissing, is just a nice thought. A fantasy. And I’m ok with that._

Isak is ok with that. 

.

Marit is a nice woman. Really, she is. Just, Isak thinks he’d like her a lot more if she wasn’t his therapist. 

They’re staring at each other, or rather, she’s staring Isak while he’s very closely inspecting his shoes. There’s some dirt he didn’t notice before on one of the laces. 

“Isak.”

“Marit.” He responds with the same exasperated tone because he’s kind of a smartass like that. 

“I can’t do the therapy thing when you’re not doing the speaking thing, kiddo.”

“I’m conducting an experiment.” He’s talking out of his ass a little. 

“What kind of experiment?” She’s humouring him at least. Isak really does like her. 

“Testing the Norwegian education system. Are our professionals truly professional? Do they possess the non-human patience us broken children need in order to patch us up and send us out back into the world.” He looks at her, and smiles back at her sad one.

“I do wish you’d stop calling yourself broken, Isak. You’re wonderful.” She pauses, still looking at him. He’s not really bothered by how much she stares. It’s her job. And she wouldn’t be Marit without her motherly worry. It’s part of her charm. “So, how am I holding up.”

“Very well. I mean, I don’t have a control group to compare you to, but I’d say you’re doing better than expected.”

“How was school?” Isak rolls his eyes, but he’s not nearly as annoyed as he tries to be. 

“Fine, mom.” She chuckles, like she always does. Marit is only 33, much too young to be Isak’s mom. 

“Did you skip your 8 am?” Isak shoots her a grin.

“Of course. I did math instead. Well, physics, but you know. Math.”

“Skipping class to do harder work, that does sound like you.”

“My phone went off. In the library. I changed my ringtone to Gin and Juice the other day, and now I think I hate that song. I felt kind of like a loser. What 21-year-old changes their ringtone? Why didn’t I just keep it at the default? And there was this guy, he kept looking at me after everyone else stopped and I couldn’t concentrate. Like, I should have turned my phone off before I went in, right?” Isak wants to keep talking but he’s working himself into a panic, so he stops and squeezes his eyes shut. Breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out. 

It takes a minute but fingers start to feel like his own. He touches his jeans and they feel like his jeans. Wiggles his toes and feels grounded. He opens his eyes and the first thing he sees is his Mark. It must be pressed against his soulmate’s face, because he can almost make out a plump pair of lips. 

“Isak?” 

“Hmm?” He doesn’t feel like talking just yet.

“That was really good, sweetheart. I think we can call it a day ok? I’ll let you chill out here while I fill out some paperwork, and when you’re ready to leave, I’ll let you go. Sound good?” Isak nods slightly, and slumps against the wall. 

.

He doesn’t cook with Eskild tonight. They’d missed each other, so Eskild made him a plate and left it in their microwave. 

He’s glad that he’s alone, or at least as alone as he can be in the kollectiv. He pulls out his phone and doesn’t think about what happened today. Instead, Isak looks for ebn again. 

He’s posted a photo on Instagram again. Blue and red lights meld into each other coming at him from opposite sides. He has the kind of face that makes you stop and turn to look. The kind that makes Isak’s breath hitch and his forkful of salmon stop midair. His eyes are the kind that people write poetry about. Blue, blue, blue. They make Isak blue in the face. He stops breathing. It’s a natural response, Isak thinks firmly. A natural response. People go nuts over puppies, and birds and flowers. Isak is just appreciating a beautiful thing. 

Ebn is gifted with words. His captions always give Isak something to think about. Something to feel. Today it’s longing. 

He lets himself long for the boy in the photograph like ebn longed for his mystery boy. 

And then he quietly washes up and heads to his room to study.

.

_I look at my hand, and don’t see the ink that would be smudged there, or the callouses that I feel. I see you and I see you and I see you. I feel it in my whole being when you laugh, and the night is never so dark as when you cry. I hope you feel me too. Feel my love and my adoration for you. Whoever you are, wherever you are, you’re perfection._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How’d I do? Let me know my peeps ❤️


	3. Three

Isak doesn’t really do parties. Not anymore, anyway. He’d done his fair share during high school and now Isak, a little older and wiser, tends to stay away when he can. But he also has a duty to his friendship with Magnus and Mahdi. So he’s at somebody’s house, leaning against a wall, trying to be invisible. Magnus stuck around for a little while, which was nice, but Isak could see he was itching to be by his boyfriend’s side, so he let him go pretty quickly. 

Isak realizes that he’s forgotten how to socialize with people he doesn’t know. So he quietly sits on the arm of a couch, sipping his beer. 

His hand is kind of dark. Warm lights flash in and out, and honestly, it reminds Isak of the room he’s sitting in now. His soulmate could be here. Right now. 

“Hey.” It’s a deep voice. One he doesn’t know. Isak turns his head and there’s a shoulder nearly bumping against his nose. 

It takes him a minute.

“Oh. Sorry.” He tilts his head up a little and is met with nice brown eyes. Like chocolate, he thinks. The stranger smiles. He has a nice smile. Isak lets his gaze wander a bit. Nice hair, nice face. Nice clothes. Nice...everything. Just. Nice.

“I’m Arne.” Nice name. Figures.

“Hi Arne.” Isak nods a little, glancing out at the rest of the people. “Uh, right. Isak.” Arne laughs lightly. 

“How much have you had to drink, Isak?” He catches Magnus’ eye for a moment, who in turn flashes a thumbs up at him before reattaching himself to Mahdi’s face.

“Would you believe this is my first drink?” Isak takes a big swig and then smiles up at Arne.

“Lightweight, huh?” The way Arne speaks, it’s like they’ve known each other for years. They’ve got something. A spark. A connection. Isak feels it.

“Not at all. I’m just. You know. Spacey.” 

“Spacey, I like that. So, Isak, tell me what’s got you spacing out at a party.” 

“Life, I guess. I was born to play the brooding, moody teenager role. I’ve been doing a hell of a job at it, so I might just upgrade to brooding, moody adult if I can figure out how to file my taxes soon.”

Arne smiles. It’s really such a nice smile. Isak thinks, maybe, he could be his soulmate. Can see them holding onto each other in a kitchen, swaying to music that only exists for the two of them. 

.

It isn’t Arne, and Isak walks home at too early o’clock and a slight burn in his thighs. He’d done his best to hide his bitter disappointment when Arne touched him and nothing happened. Even laughed it off with the guy. But now he’s alone and it’s cold and the only people out are stragglers from other parties. 

Isak is a lot tipsier now. Arne had made him something. He can’t quite figure out what the taste was, but it was strong. And so was Arne. Isak let himself be held and kissed and touched and tried not to think about the patch on his hand. He did his best not to look at the spot on the back of Arne’s arm that was so clearly putting a baby to bed. He squeezed his eyes shut and kept on going. Kind of like he is now. Blindly walking, letting his legs carry him home. 

.

Elias is the first person Isak had ever met with a mark on his face. It was funny when he was younger, and adults would make a joke out of it all. But he’d never really thought of what that meant. Growing up with the idea that you would do something to wrong your soulmate, something awful enough to warrant a slap. Or having a mark across your knuckle and thinking you’d punch the one person fated to be yours someday. If it were Isak, he’s certain he’d have a complex about it to complement the myriad of complexes he already possesses.

Elias, thankfully, isn’t at all like Isak and doesn’t seem to mind his stare.

“Fun, right?” Elias points at his cheek. “Can’t wait to see what they do.” Isak grins, and for the first time in a long while, he feels at ease with a stranger. Well, stranger adjacent. Elias and Sana have a similar, comfortable vibe. 

“You’ll have to let me know how it happens.” They chuckle.

“Isak?” Sana walks in, (girl) Chris trailing behind her. Chris gives him her exaggerated once-over, but the interested twinkle in her eye is aimed at Elias.

“Hey, bud. Chris.” She nods back at him.

“What are you doing here?” 

“It’s Tuesday.” Chris and Elias volley their gazes from Sana to Isak.

Suddenly Sana shakes her head, eyes closed. “Shit, right. Sorry, I totally thought it was earlier than it is. Do you mind if Chris joins us? Or we can reschedu-”

“Let’s do that. I’ve got some things I should probably be doing anyway.” Sana reaches out to touch his shoulder. The look of concern on her face is nothing new, but he shrugs it off. Smiling, Isak pats her arm and drops a kiss to Chris’ cheek. “Text me, yeah?”

Sana hums, still watching him. Isak gives Elias a quick salute and makes his way out.

.

The tram route is familiar. Nothing he hasn’t seen before, so he pulls out his phone. It’s an instinct by now to check if ebn0297 posted anything new. No luck. But Isak’s own account has been suffering lately, and his lack of a social life is apparent. He scrolls through his camera roll for a bit before settling on a picture of himself scowling at the camera. It’s not terrible. But his Mark is visible, and it’s all pretty colours, so at least he has that going for him.

_This week has been kicking my ass._

.

It’s a tall building. Grey. There are large windows but nearly all of them are covered. You could walk past it and never know what goes on behind the innocent, almost friendly facade. You wouldn’t hear the wailing, and the sobbing, the agony, and the despair. 

The despair is what Isak remembers the most. The soul-crushing despair that you feel when the person you love is behind a window, and you know they're screaming your name. But you can’t hear it. You can’t hear your own mother calling for you, scared, and sobbing. You can see it all. God, you can see it all; the clawing at the workers’ arms and the call being made to sedate her. Isak’d seen his mother nearly lifeless before, but there was always a clear separation. Happy mamma, who cooked dinner and sang and picked him up from school. And sad mamma, the one that locked herself in her tower. The one that Isak would try to rouse, sit with for hours, hoping and praying she’d just move. 

But watching it happen, the awareness just slowly dim from her eyes, body growing limp. That’s something different entirely. Isak can’t forget it. And it’s that memory that makes him pause just outside the door, hand on the handle, ready to walk inside. 

And it’s that thought that makes him turn back, tears blurring his vision.

It’s why Isak goes home, promising himself and her, _next week._

.

Isak’s counted a full minute about fifty times now.

The thing about insomnia is that you feel tired. You feel really, really tired. Your body gets into the right position, knows it has to be comfortable. And your eyes burn because they’re always open. But they just don’t close in the way they need to. And five minutes after you’ve found your comfy spot, it stops working and you have to turn over and start again.

He has a class he’s probably going to skip in a few hours, so Isak does what he always does when he tries to relax. 

_Dear diary,_

_Did you know I’ve been reading my journal entries out to about 250 thousand people? You’re a popular book. And you, watcher, listener, whatever you do with my videos, you are one of 250 thousand fucking amazing people that hear my deepest thoughts. The things I don’t dare say to anyone I truly know. Although I wouldn’t be surprised if my friends found this thing. I haven’t done much to hide it._

The video, like always, is beautiful. Slow sweeping shots of the sunset, and children playing on swings. Water. It’s calm and it’s making Isak feel calm. His eyes close. 

_I’ve been thinking a lot about soulmates recently. I have a Mark. And I swear, I don’t know who’s on the other end, but I feel like I’m already halfway in love with them. We have such a powerful connection, I can almost feel what they’re feeling. Maybe I’m just projecting. Today wasn’t the greatest for them. It wasn’t the greatest for me either. That’s why I’ve decided that my video would be sweet. The simple things that make me happy. Maybe my mate is subscribed to my channel. It’s a longshot I know, but if I’ve made anyone, soulmate or not, feel just a little bit better, then I’m happy._

_Some days I feel sorry for my mate. I pity my soulmate because they might one day have to deal with me and all the baggage that comes with. A younger me used to wish I was Markless. Just so I wouldn’t have to deal with the inevitable rejection. There was a time when I tried to stop it all myself. But I am stronger than that now. Stable, I think._

I’m not making a lot of sense, I know. But minds are like that. People are like that. We jump from thought to idea to emotion, and today I’m jumping a lot more than usual.

_Mate. Soulmate. If you’re listening, hello. I like long walks on the beach and talking through movies. I like hand holding and just being together. I’d love to make you breakfast one day. Maybe eggs? I’m good at that. Unless you’re vegan, then I guess I can make changes. Anyway, I just want to tell you that there’s someone in the world who cares about you. I always have. I felt like you needed to hear that._

Isak is fast asleep, clutching the phone to his chest.  
.

_Ebn0297 started following you._


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no read! I told someone on fb that I’d be posting earlier, but I picked up my new puppy yesterday so I’m using the constant peeing and wanting to play as an excuse! Sorry ❤️

Eskild is Elias’ soulmate. 

Eskild and Elias are soulmates and Isak watched their Marks bloom.

Sana had come over, brother in tow, and the moment they looked at each other it was like they knew. Elias walked past them all, slowly, as if in trance, to stand in front of Eskild. Isak felt as though he was watching something private. Not meant for any of them to see, but he couldn’t stop watching. He was every bit as fascinated at the sight, as Eskild seemed looking at Elias.

He raised his hand, trembling, Eskild’s eyes closing as he cupped Elias’ face. Isak shared a look with Sana; pride and happiness brimming in her eyes. Isak is certain that his echoed her emotion. His guru, his brother. Happy and whole at last. 

Through the spaces between Eskild’s fingers, Isak can see the scene echoed back, clear as day. A version of Isak and Sana watching their families come together. Isak finally looks away, when Elias’ hands travel to the back of Eskild’s neck. It’s too intimate.  
.

When they’ve disappeared into Eskild’s room, Sana and Isak take over the kitchen. He makes her tea; green and just a little bit on the too strong side. Isak is an earl grey kind of guy. No milk and three spoons of sugar. 

She won’t stop smiling, and Isak thinks he’s kind of lucky to have seen it. To have seen one of his favorite people in the world get his happy ending. To see Sana so genuinely happy for her brother. It’s just beautiful. 

He’s a little jealous, though. Isak looks at his muddled fingers and wishes he would meet his soulmate soon. He still stands by what he said. That a soulmate isn’t the end all be all of their existence. Meeting his soulmate wouldn’t magically cure him of his anxiety, nor fix his fucked up family. There isn’t even a guarantee that Isak’s soulmate would be romantic. He’s heard of soulmates even being family members. Still, Isak longs for a person who will get him, and someone that will care for him like he does his own soulmate. 

He swears, he feels what his soulmate does sometimes. Isak’s often hit with an overwhelming sadness out of nowhere, that never really feels like his own. Sometimes he gets incredibly horny, even if he’s been taken care of too recently for it to even get as bad as it does. He’s certain they come from his soulmate. 

“You didn’t answer my texts.” Sana finally says, when they’ve thought about it too long, and questionably loud music begins to sound from the hall.

“My phone died. I fell asleep with it on and forgot to plug it in.” It almost feels like Isak is missing an appendage without his phone. He definitely has a problem, but he doesn’t dwell on it. He’s got enough issues as it is. “I should probably charge it. I’m expecting a text from my pappa, so.” 

He leaves her and jogs to his room. He tries not to hear the moaning over the music. Eskild’s penchant for The Circle of Life has worked a sort of Pavlov effect on everyone in the kollectiv. No one can hear it without thinking of Eskild’s dick.

Isak plugs his phone in and lies on his bed, waiting for the telltale chime that his phone’s come back to life. He’s flooded with notifications, most of them texts from Sana telling him she was waiting to be buzzed in. He scrolls through them, saving a few frome Jonas for later, when Sana barges in.

“I’m very happy for them, but I can’t take this anymore. Let’s get out of here?” Isak grins at her, before dropping his phone back on the bed.

.

They’re watching a movie when Isak gets home. The lights are all off, but the apartment is bathed in blue light from the screen. Eskild and Elias are flanking Noora on the couch, their arms around her, but still touching each other. 

“Hey.” It’s Linn who notices him first. Isak smiles at her, waving in response. Eskild comes bounding up to him, enveloping Isak in a bear hug. 

“Eskild.” Isak plays it up a little, but Eskild is a lot stronger than he looks. “Can’t...breathe.” Eskild releases him and instead chooses to pepper Isak’s face with kisses.

“Baby boy, how are you?” He’s a little more...Eskild than usual.

“Fine. Uh, what’s with the. You know.” He waves at the scene behind them. Eskild turns to look at them, an exaggerated pout making its way onto his face.

“Oh. Noora broke up with Else today. So Elias and I wanted to cheer her up.” Isak follows Eskild back to the couches. Noora smiles sadly at him.

“Sorry about Else.” Isak offers a little awkwardly. He’s not good at this kind of thing.

“It’s ok. I’m sorry too. She wasn’t nice. Not even to me.” Isak sits on the floor and rests his head against her knee. 

“That’s shitty.” Noora huffs out a laugh. It’s a little angry.

“It was a little more than shitty.” Isak doesn’t know how to respond, so he just softly strokes her leg. Noora reaches down to hold his hand. He thinks she might be crying, but doesn’t comment on it. 

Linn is watching them from her cocoon on her couch and Eskild presses in closer. Times like this, Isak is reminded that he has a family. Not bound by blood, but his chosen family. A bunch of lost souls, misfits, taking care of each other. Loving each other. He’s struck by the warmth in the room and the warmth running through his veins. They’re here for each other, no matter where they are, who they are. They can always come back and have a home with each other. 

And that’s where Isak stops thinking about it, because this is too much emotion for him to deal with right now. He looks at his hand. It’s kind of like if you took a picture of your skin just close enough that its dark, but still far enough that it’s still skin-coloured. It’s moving fast, though. There are flashes of light and then back on skin. It’s like...Isak doesn’t want to think it. 

His mate’s hand travels up and lands on a blurry jaw before it goes completely dark. The angle isn’t right to be their own jaw. 

Oh.

He reaches for Eskild’s phone on the table in front of him and clicks on the youtube icon. Ebn0297 is supposed to upload today.

Isak puts the earphones in and lets ebn’s voice fill his ears and his thoughts and his heart.

.

_I want to talk about endings. The end of a book or a movie. The end of a relationship. The end of a life._

_I used to look at life like a movie. Maybe multiple movies. So many beginnings. Firsts. My first crush. First failed test. First girlfriend. I broke up with my first and only girlfriend today. It’s a little bittersweet. Or maybe a lot. She was there for me through the most difficult time in my life. And she was so good. The best honestly. But like most good things, we had to come to an end. It wasn’t anything dramatic. No one cheated, nothing like that. We’re just too different from who we used to be when we first met. I couldn’t make her happy and I wasn’t happy with her. I know she watches these, she told me that today. She’s heard a lot about me I was too afraid to share with her. Which is nice, I think. Because she’s never treated me any different. And I’d love for us to be proper friends someday. You know we’ve never done that? We were always something more until we became something else. But she’s funny and kind and one day when we’re a little less bitter, I’d like to see her and hang out and be happy together again._

_But it’s that end that’s brought me to the realization that endings are good. And they’re necessary._

_Without the end of a book, we’d never reach the conclusion. We’d never know if the main character got their chance at happiness. Without the end of a movie, we’d be stuck in the theatre forever. Without the end, the final, infinite end; without death, how do we appreciate the life we’re living?_

_And the end of that relationship has given way to the most beautiful beginning._

_I met someone. Or, no that’s a lie. I saw someone. A boy. He’s. God, you’d think I was talking about my friend again, but that’s over now. Well over. I’m talking about a boy who’s little smile, who’s pouts and frowns and laugh will melt your heart. Swallow you whole and rebuild you. I’ve never spoken to him, I’m much too cowardly to approach him. I think I scared him off once, which, if you’re listening, I’m sorry about that. I just couldn’t look away. I asked my friends about him, and that was a trip. But I powered through the teasing. Turns out we run in similar circles. He’s a friend of a close friend. I’m telling you this whole thing has gotten too real. I’d even found him online. He’s absolutely adorable. Everything I thought he’d be like. If you were wondering what he looks like, I won’t describe him in detail, sorry guys. Privacy and all that._

_But yeah, here I am. In this in between. The middle of an end and a beginning. A limbo between a familiarity I’ve had to leave behind and jumping into something completely unknown._

_I’m going to wait a little. Maybe I’ll do it right and try for friendship first. He seems like he’d be a wonderful friend. I don’t know. We’ll see._

.

They’ve started another movie and Isak is glad no one’s paying attention. Elias, Noora, and Eskild are chatting quietly. Linn’s fallen asleep. 

Quick as he can, Isak rubs the tears out of his eyes. He stands up, says goodnight, and heads to bed.


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I'd love for you guys to give me your opinion on something! I was thinking about writing longer chapters with a little more time between uploads, or should I keep them like 1000-1500 and upload a lot more frequently (every other day or at least a three times a week vs. once or twice a week)? This little hiatus I just took was just a one-time thing, I had to write finals eeek!

It’s probably a mistake. 

Most likely. 

Maybe he was checking out who followed him and accidentally hit the follow button. That happens. Right?

But as much as Isak refreshes, it doesn’t turn back to blue. Ebn0297 is still following him and Isak doesn’t really know how to continue. His account is...embarrassing at best. Full of awkward, blurry pictures of some of his worst angles. He opens a new message to ebn, closes it, then scrolls through his account once more.

There’s a new photo. A professional one probably. Ebn sits laughing amidst bright coloured smoke. Red, blue, purple. It’s so pretty. He’s so pretty. Isak opens the messages again, and this time types out a greeting. Three, no, four times.

_Hey. I love your stuff! Thanks for the follow._

He hits send and regrets and regrets. Why did he do it? Ebn likely won’t see it. It’ll get drowned out in all the other DMs, Isak has nothing to worry about. But on the slight chance he does see it, then he’ll judge Isak and his lame enthusiasm. Who thanks someone for following them? What kind of loser-

_Seen._

_Ebn0297 is typing…_

Isak’s heart pounds hard in his ears. He’s not sure what scares him more, the judgment or the inevitable passive rejection that comes with talking to someone famous.

_Hi Isak! Thanks for messaging first. I’ll be honest I was going out of my mind trying to figure out a chill way to talk to you._

It’s a possibility that Isak hadn’t even thought to consider. Ebn is nice. And he wants to talk to Isak. It fills him with a warmth he’s never known before.

_So this is a little unfair._

_What is?_

_You know my name, but you’re still ebn to me._

_Oh._  
_You’re right that isn’t fair._  
_I’m Even._

_Nice to meet you Even._

.

Eskild takes Isak shopping once every few months. It was something they started when Isak was 16 and scared and a little bit homeless. At first, it was hard. Isak hated having to rely on others. And Eskild was just handing him everything. But Isak is a little better now. He still complains just as much, but there’s no anger, no heat.

“How’s Elias.” A sweet smile graces Eskild’s features and Isak thinks it's so nice.

“He’s amazing. I don’t know how we fit, though.”

“What do you mean?” Eskild is good at this talking thing. It helps when they aren’t making eye contact though. Isak can pretend to look at jeans and speak freely. 

“He’s not gay. Or, at least that’s what he’s saying.” He says it light and easy. Like it doesn’t really bother him. 

“Do you think it’s platonic?” 

“It might be. I feel like it’s more than platonic, but who knows. Honestly, it doesn’t really matter. He’s figuring things out and I’m just happy to be by his side.” Isak wonders if he’ll be as confident in his bond. He looks at his hand and there’s nothing remarkable. Just the regular iridescent gleam it normally has. 

“Are you sure you don’t want a crop top? You’ve got such a nice little body, bub.” Isak mock chokes until Eskild rolls his eyes and pushes Isak forward, deeper in the store.

“I know what you’re doing, old man. Try as hard as you can, but you will not turn me into your clone.” Eskild scoffs and turns to look through the racks.

“So are you going to tell me what’s got you in such a good mood, or will I have to guess what’s going on behind those steely eyes.” Eskild dramatically swoons. Or, in this case, swoons. Most things Eskild does is dramatic anyway. It’s his default.

“No, I just want to look good you know. Had a bit of a rude awakening, looking at my Instagram.” Isak shrugs like it’s no big deal. Like he hasn’t bared this half-truth so willingly. He doesn’t say anything about Even, because he wants to keep him to himself a little longer. That and Eskild will have a fit when he hears about it.

“Am I dreaming? Are you sick?” He reaches out to touch Isak’s forehead, only to have his hand swatted away. “I think God is real. And She’s finally listening to this gay’s prayers.” Eskild grins and pushes a pile of shirts into Isak’s arms. 

Isak hides his fond smile behind the awful pink thing in front of his face. Eskild is kind of the best person he knows.

.

Jonas comes home without telling Isak. It’s a wonderful surprise and Isak never feels as at home as when he’s chilling with his best friend. He gets a message to meet him at the kebab place. And that could mean one of two things. Kebab with Jonas or kebab with Jonas. Very different.

Kebab with Jonas often times means shooting the shit with each other. They don’t always get to hang out, so kebab brings them back together. But Kebab with Jonas is another thing entirely. 

It’s talking, actually talking. It’s telling the truth and coming clean. Isak came out to Jonas eating kebabs. Jonas kissed him at kebab once. (They’ve tried to date, but are 100% better off as friends.) They’ve fought and fought before. And they always make up with kebabs. 

So Isak is a little nervous. He’s not sure what kind of meeting this is, but he’s glad to have his brother back.

The first thing Isak sees is the clear Mark on Jonas’ neck. 

“What the fuck?” Is the first thing that comes to mind, and of course, mouth when Jonas is close enough.

Jonas laughs, and Isak can’t help the fond smile that spreads across his face. He’s missed Jonas. 

“That’s the first thing you say to me? After I’ve been gone a month?” Jonas’ arms are warm like he always is. 

They order and pay before sitting at their table. (Isak always seems to have a table for his friends. He needs to really check his spending habits, he is not rich enough for this lifestyle.)

“So are you going to tell me about it, or what?” Isak nods towards Jonas’ neck. He grins, big and pretty. Mated is a good look on Jonas.

“Their name is Mikael. We met in the States, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“They’re actually friends with Sana’s brother. Elias, I think. Small world huh?” Isak snorts. Small world, indeed.

“Elias and Eskild are mates, you know.” He takes a bite, chews, then swallows before finishing. “Do you think we’re all doomed to connect our weird friend circles?” They snicker. Isak doesn’t laugh like this, genuinely laugh with anyone else. 

“Probably. Anyway, I can’t wait for you two to meet. Mikael’s amazing, bro.” 

Isak pauses a moment, wondering if he should ask what he’s thinking.

“Mikael knows about it. It was the first thing I told them after we got to really talking.” Jonas rubs his sleeve, just above where his second Mark sits. Isak nods.

“You have to stop it with that telepathy shit. It freaks me out.”

Jonas kicks him under the table, scarfing down the rest of his kebab. Isak throws his crumpled up napkin at his head.

.

He’s scrolling through Even’s feed again. It’s different now, that they’ve spoken. That there’s a real name behind the series of numbers and letters that make up the voice that soothes his aching heart. There’s more meaning in his words. Isak’s little crush has been sparking, morphing into something more.

He’s drifting off, thinking of Even’s strong face and his soft words. Isak’s nearly asleep when there’s a knock at his door. He lets it go, but the knocking becomes more persistent. Groaning, Isak sits up and calls out for whoever it is to come in.

“Sorry to bother you.” Noora holds up two cups. “I brought tea.”

Isak sits up and watches as Noora walks in. She sits on the edge of his bed and hands him one of the drinks. It’s chamomile. He doesn’t really like chamomile. It kind of tastes like hot muddy water.

“What’s up?” Isak almost wishes he could go back to the time where he was too emotionally stunted to even hold a conversation like this. At some point, though, between girlfriends 5 and 8, he became some sort of a therapist for her (she refused to see a professional). He supposes they’re about to have one of those heart to heart moments. 

“I wanted to apologize. For Else. And everything that happened.” 

“Nothing happened. And especially nothing that you need to apologize for.” She smiles a little, tucking some hair behind her ear. Isak’s never noticed how many piercings she has. One of them looks new. 

“But still. I knew what she was like and still let her be rude to everyone here. She wasn’t even really nice to me.” Isak puts his hand on hers. “I thought I could help her, you know? She was born Markless. And you know what happened to mine. I just wanted to give her the kind of happiness a soulmate should have.” Isak gets it. Noora always wants to fix things. Repaint the walls, replace a stuck doorknob. Fix a broken person. She’s kind like that. Isak used to hate it. The worst part of her. But he’s able to see now (with the help of Marit, who’s kind of an angel when Isak begins to talk around his problems). He sees that she’s trying to fix everything else because there’s something very broken inside. 

“I think she was lucky to have you in her life. And no one blames you.” Noora puts her cup on the floor, and hugs Isak around the waist, settling under his arm. 

“You’re a good guy, Isak. Your mate will be lucky to have you.” They grin at each other and sit in silence for a few moments. 

Isak’s phone vibrates.

“Is that my cue to go?” Noora starts to stand.

“No, why would I kick you out?” He’s only being slightly sarcastic. 

“That’s not, like, Grindr or anything right?” Isak scoffs.

“I’m not into that kind of thing. It’s gross. Unless I really need dick. It’s less gross then.” Noora laughs, clear and bright. 

“I’ll leave you to do whatever it is you do, then. I have like, three papers I should have finished a week ago.” She gives Isak a hug before closing the door behind her.

.

_I seem to be stuck on the topic of soulmates this week. Every morning, like a prayer, my first thought is ‘will we meet today?’ I can’t help it these days. Every day just feels closer. Is that something that happens? Are we biologically aware when we get close? Or is it just wishful thinking?_

_I try to look at the research, but it’s hard for me to look at cold, clinical words and apply them to my feelings. They’re alive, these feelings. Tinged with the colour of my soulmate’s and pulsating. Alive with energy and pure magic. It’s a little hard to talk to about how I feel like this when so many of my feelings are thick, black ooze. But I’m one of those annoying people, I think. No matter how dark and how hard the days get, I can never regret my feelings. Because when I feel happiness, and I feel pain, it’s proof that I’m alive. Life is precious, kids._

_Now that’s a bit heavy, isn't it? Maybe making you wonder why I’m talking like this. But that’s another story for another time. For now, I have a question for you. A soulmate-y question._

_Do you ever feel your soulmate? Like, feel their emotions inside you. I’ve been doing a lot of reading and there aren’t very many studies on emotional bonds. Hardly any information other than the fact that they exist. My soulmate...they feel a lot. They’re always feeling something. It’s kind of strange, having someone’s emotions existing alongside your own. Sometimes, I’d be having a bad day, and my mate’s feeling so much happiness or love and it warms me up. Like being brought inside from the cold. Of course, sometimes, it’s the opposite. But I try to feel good things for them. At them? I don’t know._

_That’s all, I guess. Maybe you all deserve a little life update. You’ve been here all this time, after all. I’m doing really, really well. More than that. I’m really happy these days. Stable and secure and happy. It’s been a long time since I was able to use those words and genuinely mean it. All of my relationships are flourishing in ways I didn’t imagine to be possible. I’ve handed in that assignment that was kicking my ass. Just needed a little inspiration, and boy, have I found it. I want to branch out on this channel. More fun stuff, some shorts. Meeting some of the people I love. Let me know what you think?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what y'all think!

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it? Let me know! I always appreciate your feedback <3


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